


Forever is Composed of Nows

by Violetwilson



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ben Solo Lives, Canonverse AU, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Gentle, Gentle understanding and tall, No Pregnancy, Redeemed Ben Solo, post war summer camp for damaged grown ups, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetwilson/pseuds/Violetwilson
Summary: When the Resistance finally makes itself obsolete, it’s Ben who suggests they should all go to the villa on Naboo.Then he gives her a slight smile, one of the gentle ones. (But then, they’re all gentle ones.)[Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.]
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 75
Kudos: 442





	Forever is Composed of Nows

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt came [from twitter (Thank you Taryn!!!) ](https://twitter.com/4taryn4/status/1228088499514949633)
> 
> Title is from the Emily Dickinson poem of the same name.

Somehow, the war ends. 

The Resistances completes its goal of making itself obsolete, and as the bases are packed up and the ships are disarmed, it’s actually Ben who suggests they go to Naboo.

“Rey, you’ve never seen Varykino, have you?” he says, sipping his iced caf as they pause between unloading boxes in the baking heat of the base on Ryloth. He gives her a slight smile, one of the gentle ones. But then, they’re _all_ gentle ones.

“Your grandmother’s villa on Naboo?” Rose says, seeing Rey’s blank expression and gently filling her in without making her admit she doesn’t know. 

“We’ve bunked at worse places than a rich beautiful, isolated villa,” says Poe. He’s leaning against the comm center podium they’re about to load onto the freighter, his brow still damp from the day’s labor. “And Leia did say the vacation was mandatory.”

“Won’t that be, I don’t know, sad?” Rey mutters, imagining long hallways full of portraits of Ben’s family. What if it hurts him?

“No,” Ben says. “I’ve been there before. It’s beautiful. There’s a longtime caretaker who keeps the place up. It would be good.”

Finn, walking into the loading dock with a grouchy looking Hux in tow, comes to a stop.

“Someone,” Finn says in a tone of great exasperation, “Inform Hux that a vacation is a good thing.”

Hux, dressed in a black short sleeve shirt and aggressively pressed black pants despite the heat, throws his hands up. “It’s absurd. As if we don’t have enough concerns with the galaxy in turmoil, the Senate being rebuilt, the remnants of an enormous fleet to repair or dismantle, depending on if the gods-forsaken _Populists_ actually get that bill-”

“We should go to Varykino,” Rose declares, arching a brow. “Because Hux is going to explode if we don’t.”

All eyes turn to Rey, sipping the iced caf that Ben brought her and trying to decide if this is a good idea. She glances at Ben, who gives her a soft smile that makes something _happen_ in her chest. 

It’s been four months since Exegol, and it’s hard to describe exactly what having him here means to her.

Gods, it had been rough going at first. Between Poe and Rose, Ben had _two_ black eyes within two weeks. But he’d proven himself in time, first by saving Rose’s life when she’d been shot by an enclave of surviving Final Order extremists, and then again when he’d lifted Poe Dameron’s x-wing out of a morass of mud and bog without even blinking. 

The first action won over Rose, Finn, and (unexpectedly) Hux. The second, everyone else. 

And now they’re an informal gang, sent on a spot-treatment missions to help de-weaponize the galaxy and popularize the sanity of the new rule of law. 

But when they’re alone, Rey can’t stop looking at him, at the soft contours of his cheeks, the swell of his shoulders, the cut of his jaw. When she’s feeling brave, she even touches him, her fingers gentle like he’s something precious and fragile, though god knows he’s not. 

It’s not that they pretend the kiss didn’t happen, it’s that it means _too_ much to her. She can tell he feels the same way, though they rarely speak of it in words. Just looking at him makes her chest feel impossibly thick and tight and warm. 

They’re not rushing it, and the huge thing between them must scare him as much as it scares her. That kiss had been _everything_. So they’re taking it slow, getting to know each other, not in a hurry. 

When he looks at her (and he’s always looking at her) his gaze says, _I will love you for all our days._ And she will touch his hand and look at him as if to say, _I don’t have words for this._

“I think it’s a good idea,” she tells Ben. “If it’s pretty and remote and we can lay in the sun.”

Poe claps his hands. “The queen has spoken!” 

She is never a princess, to Poe. She is always a queen. 

* * *

When they arrive at Varykino, Rey’s most startled by what she _doesn’t_ feel. 

It’s a huge and beautiful place, tall and solid with domed roofs and stone terraces that extend decadently over the gleaming lake. Stone walkways lead down tree-lined paths to the water, and fragrant vines bloom luxuriantly in the bright light of the sun. Mountains surround them on all sides, and all Rey can think of is that it’s… nice. Beautiful. 

Ben is holding her hand, looking down at her with a look of concern on his face as he carries her duffle effortlessly over one shoulder.

“You look like a statue,” she says. 

His lips twitch. “I do?”

An elderly man comes out to help them settle, bowing deeply to Rey and Ben and calling her “dear girl” with a twinkle in his eyes. Poe, Rose, and Finn barrel into the house, their linen outfits freshly ordered from a tailor on Chandrila for the occasion.

Hux, sidling up next to Rey and Ben, is wearing sunshades and a button down open two buttons at the top. 

“This is tolerable,” he says, gesturing at the villa. 

Ben hits him with Rey’s duffle bag.

An hour later and they’re all sitting on a covered patio, the glass doors open to the gentle breeze of the late afternoon sun as an antique droid serves them wildflower tea and baked seed cakes that taste like spices and savory grains.

Ben hands her his seed cake and she eats it in one bite, blind to the pretty flower patterned stamped into the top. Poe is telling a story about a Nikto he beat at cards one time, sprawling luxuriously on a silk chaise and gesticulating wildly.

Rose finishes her chilled tea and resumes braiding wildflowers from the bouquet on the table into Hux’s hair. Hux allows this, sitting there with a funny expression on his face. Ben leans over and whispers into her ear, “it’s like he’s trying to remember how to smile but can’t quite.”

Rey turns to grin at him, noticing the way his freckles stand out in the sunlight and how the dappled shadow from the trees overhead make his eyes dilate. 

“I always wanted to take you here,” he says, his voice just barely low enough for her to hear. “I always thought you would look just like this.”

Rey gives him a coy smile. “I think you probably imagined me draped in black and covered in gemstones, though.”

His lips twitch. “No, that’s not quite it.”

“Then what?” she whispers, confused.

Poe’s voice cuts in. “Naked. He was imagining you _naked_ Rey.”

There’s one second of startled silence, and then Finn, Rose, Poe, and even Hux are roaring with laughter. 

Ben grunts, getting to his feet and pulling Rey up with him. “That’s quite enough out of you all, thanks.”

“Where are you going?” Finn says, eyes bright. 

“Oh no,” says Hux dryly, a small constellation of daisies in his hair, “I think they’re _leaving._ ”

“I’m showing Rey the water.”

Finn looks confused. “She’s seen water.”

Ben puts his hands on Rey’s shoulders and says, “Yes but _I_ want to show her.” 

“But,” Finn begins, but Rose shushes him furiously.

Poe grins. “Hey, Solo, they got any brandy in this place?”

Ben looks at Rey, who nods. The droid goes off to fetch some, and then she and Ben are walking out onto the back patio together, their arms just brushing each other as they walk into the balmy air. There’s a slight breeze, but the shiver that overtakes her is entirely because Ben takes her hand. It’s so easy. So natural.

Ben tells her about the flora and the fauna as they walk down the steps to the water, the gleaming sun making her squint. When they get to the balcony at water’s edge, they just stand there, looking at it.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” she murmurs, leaning her head against his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her waist, and the contact feels good. Soft and gentle like the air. It feels like it always does. Easy. 

“I can’t believe we survived it all,” Ben says. “D’you ever think about that?”

“Constantly.”

He glances down at her. “The odds of it. I mean, Jakku, Snoke, Palpatine, all of it.” 

“Sometimes, I feel like I’ve gotten away with something, and someone is going to come and take it away once they realize the mistake,” she murmurs. She’s never said that out loud. 

Ben nods, crossing in front of her to lean against the thick stone railing without letting go of her hand. Rey moves to stand between his legs, enjoying that they’re at eye-level again. Shyly, she reaches out and brushes a strand of his hair behind his ear, the touch tremulous and gentle.

He turns, letting his lips brush against the sensitive skin of her wrist. 

Her heart clenches. This is so much better than stolen glances at politically tense bases, better than sitting across from each other at state dinners, better than waking up alone panting his name into the darkness. 

“Ben,” she murmurs. “It kind of hurts.” 

His eyes snap open, alert for danger. “Wh-”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, stifling a laugh. “I only meant that being this close to you, touching you like this, being _allowed_ to… it feels so good that it kind of hurts.”

Ben relaxes, drawing her a little closer, wrapping one hand around her waist and tucking her into him so that her head rests on his shoulder. 

“I am going to be good to you, Rey. For as long as I live.”

She buries her face into his neck, heady on the physical contact. 

“I want to be good for you too,” she whispers. 

Ben grips her a little tighter, a faint sound coming out of him. Something new and raw, like biting into a rich fruit. “ _Rey_.”

From the house, Rey hears the sound of galloping feet as Poe runs down the walkway to the water, whooping with Finn in tow. Both are in swim trunks, and Rose is running after them, dragging Hux with her. 

The group run right by Rey and Ben, tucked into the shadows as they are, but when Rey moves to follow them, Ben holds her back. 

“Wait,” he says, his lips parted. “Just a few more moments.”

Feeling lucky and alive and in love, Rey nuzzles up against him as he gathers her up in his arms, kissing her on the top of her head in a way that makes her feel shy and cared for and small, but in a good way. 

And then he scoops her up into his arms and carries her, laughing and swatting him, down to the beach, where Rose is throwing down sand blankets for them as Hux sets up a large silk sun shade with militaristic precision. Poe’s already in the lake, Finn beside him in the clear, aqua water. 

Kylo walks into the water with her, his warm body a thrilling contrast to the cool water, and she doesn’t care that her pretty sun dress is going to be soaked, doesn’t care that Rose is looking at her with a smile she doesn’t understand, doesn’t care that there are a dozen little pink fish investigating Ben’s calves. 

She lifts her head up and whispers to him, “Ben, I’m ready.”

And he holds her gaze and brings them both down until the waters overtake them. 

* * *

That night, they sit in front of a bonfire drinking excellent whiskey. 

Rey is the only one who can make a fire from scratch, so she orders Ben around, fetching wood and making him place them just how she asks, as Poe and Finn carry logs over to the fire pit for them to sit on. 

Rose picks berries from the nearby bushes as the droid brings out bowls of fresh vegetables, soft loaves of rich brown bread, butters and jams. 

As darkness falls, Rose teaches them how to sing songs with simple melodies that overlap, each of them singing the same tune in a round so that their voices meld and blend together in new and complex harmonies. It echoes over the water, as the glowbugs nearby illuminate the dense foliage of the trees as they fall into deepening shadows. 

Crackling fire noises mix with the sound of the ice in their cups clinking against the pale blue glass. Rey feels very warm, but that could be because she is tucked under Ben’s arm, baking and hot but somehow still so desperately eager to get closer, warmer. 

He’s singing something softly in his low baritone, a mumbled lullabye sound that she can’t quite place. Poe is roasting some meat on the open fire, smiling tenderly at Finn across the flames. Hux has his hands in Rose’s hair this time, exacting a complicated looking braid across her neck, and she’s leaning her head back so she can look up at him. 

A little hazily, Rey thinks that in a way, this peace and contentment is its own kind of loss. How did they get here? How did they make it to this soft, warm place where they can be alone together? What did they have to sacrifice to pay for this kind of love?

They have another drink, and Poe toasts to Leia Organa, to the future, to the stars. Rose toasts to her sister, and Finn just looks at his glass, his thoughts far away. They may never lose that feeling, that somewhere just over their shoulder is a ghost world where this all went very differently. But Ben kisses Rey on the top of her head again, and the past recedes as if beaten back by a great tide.

* * *

When they retire for the evening, all of them a little tipsy, all of them a little in love, they stumble into their individual moon-drenched rooms like shipwrecks survivors, collapsing onto day beds draped in sheer curtains that move on unseen breezes. 

Rey pulls on a silky sleep dress, her skin pink from the sun and her heart full. When she knocks on Ben’s door, he’s standing on his balcony, his back to the door. His expression looks like the stars have gotten into him when he turns around, and something in her goes kind of soft all over. 

He’s shirtless, because it’s such a warm evening, his simple sleep pants a soft, light flannel the color of new butter. She goes to him, because she was always going to go to him, and he tucks her into his side again, just like before. 

Only this time she looks up at him and says, “Ben.”

His lips part, his face cast partway into shadow from the light of the moon. The tiles of the balcony are still warm from the heat of the sun, and inside Rey’s chest feels like the way it looks when a bird soars above you in the sky.

When he lowers his head to hers, he’s very slow, very careful. Always so careful with her, always gentle, her man. 

His lips brush hers, just a gentle brush that has her inhaling a deep breath. 

“Mmm,” she murmurs, her face cast into shadow by his as he hovers over her. “Again?”

He smiles at her, like he did before, when he’d come back to her. 

“Always,” he murmurs, and kisses her again. 

This time she brings a trembling hand up to brush his cheek, feeling the slight stubble there from their travels. When she touches him, he inhales sharply but doesn’t stop kissing. His kisses travel from her mouth to the side of her jaw, clumsily pressed into her like he’s trying to hold onto it. She leans her neck back and he kisses her there, too, as her fingers work into the dense softness of his hair.

Her head tilted back, she opens her eyes to the moon overhead, and on an exhale she teaches it his name.

“Ben,” she sighs.

“Rey,” he mumbles. “Rey, Rey, Rey.”

When his hands grab her waist, she’s prepared for him. He lifts her up, kissing her, carrying her, holding her close as he moves them to the soft white expanse of the bed. They land in a soft heap of clean linens and warm bodies and hot kisses.

She arches her back as he holds himself above her, his hair brushing her face like a dark canopy. Rey runs her hand down his chest, feeling the contours of him, the way he’s so strong, so dauntless in the face of this huge thing between them. 

“Rey, it hurts,” he says, staring into her. 

“It hurts?” she asks, not because she does not know, but because she wants so badly to hear him say it.

“How much I love you.” 

His eyes are misted and desperate, and a sudden fierceness overtakes her. Leaning up, she hooks one arm around his neck and kisses him again, pressing every inch of herself against him, trying to love him with her whole body and mind. 

He groans and clutches at her, holding too hard, pressing himself against her in a way that is so good that it feels like her desire is trying to escape her body through stifled moans, through half-clenched jaws, through little cries as they move against each other. 

They take their clothes off, him helping her lift her dress up and over her head, gasping when he looks at her. She has never felt more beautiful, more wanted. In the moonlight, his naked body is so different than she’d thought. He’s lean and long and so _strong_ , flat like the palm of her hand, and muscled. She touches him everywhere. 

“I want to be-” she mumbles, somehow on top of him now, running her hands down his body, her center pressed against the aching hardness of him, but not all the way, yet. “I want to be so good for you, Ben, I-”

It cuts off as he juts up against her, warm and hard against her. She moves just slightly, taking him in her hand, lining him up. She catches his eyes, and she has never seen him look at her like this. 

“I want to,” she murmurs, silently begging him. 

“Yes,” he gasps. “Rey, sweetheart, yes.”

Rey lowers herself onto him, slowly, because she’s never done this before. When she finally feels all of him inside her, Rey tilts her head down, her whole body bathed in moonlight, and looks at him again. 

He’s got the whole universe in his eyes, and he starts to move, careful and collected and then, as they go on, _not_ careful, but reckless and heady as they touch each other, moving, crying softly into the warm, kind night around them. 

When they both reach the outer limits of it all, they cling to each other, gasping for breath, finally understanding what it must be like to see a star explode into a million points of shattering light. 

The wind picks back up again, blowing down from the mountains, across the water, and into their bed as they lay next to each other, dazed by this new feeling that has entered the world. 

They fall asleep like that, stunned and _alive_ , holding each other against the darkness and clinging to their dear, damaged bodies. With every sleepy exhale, with every soft stroke of fingers against skin, they promise each other that they have survived, that they will love each other, and that they will be good to each other. 

They care nothing for the daylight. 

Dawn is anywhere that they are together.

**Author's Note:**

> They deserved a soft ending. 
> 
> If you'd like to support my writing, I'd appreciate kudos and a comment here on Ao3 or a follow [my Twitter account!](https://twitter.com/ViWiWrites) I post star wars content, memes, and fic updates.


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